Chapter 3: Squad Affairs

After dinner, Neo chatted casually with his four subordinates and learned that Hagen worked as an assistant in a restaurant in his daily life and had planned to open a snack stall, with his mother acting as the owner and handling front-office duties.
Neo joked, “It seems your City Guard brothers will have a rather poor dinner.”
Tony’s strength lay in his exceptional running and walking ability and endurance; nicknamed “Skinny Donkey,” he often traveled between Quian and Chebna, as well as nearby villages, delivering messages and buying trivial items like salt and useful spices. According to Tony, there were at least five others in Quian and Chebna who did similar work alongside farming. Only then did Neo realize that the cavalry of Mathuya was barely holding together. Valentina had already given him two inferior horses, which was a generous gesture considering the not-so-wealthy Mathuya knightly domain.
Mach was also an outsider in Mathuya and reluctant to talk much. When Neo asked about his strengths, he simply said he had been a stable hand in Mathuya before.
During previous work together, Neo noticed that Mach’s right hand and left leg were not very agile. Plus, he used his left hand to wield a sword, walked unsteadily, and his complexion seemed abnormal. Neo inferred that this man had hidden injuries and likely had a complicated past. However, Neo decided not to touch on Mach’s sensitive points for now and left it to him to take care of the squad’s four inferior horses on a daily basis.
As for Dick, he had no special skills but knew a bit of everything. Neo said, “A jack-of-all-trades—perfect as my assistant.”
“Captain, when will you teach us some skills?” Dick asked, his eyes gleaming with slight excitement.
Standing up and stretching, Neo said, “Tomorrow. For now, just rest well. But before going to bed, there’s a small task: read ‘Neo is our leader’ out loud two hundred times. I’ll supervise personally, and those who aren’t serious will be punished.”
All four, including Mach, were stunned, thinking to themselves—was this guy narcissistic or what? What kind of ridiculous task was this?
Ignoring their expressions, Neo strolled off to inspect the other two camps.
The militia had chosen a smaller pentagonal ice enclosure, setting up tents at three corners and leaving the open areas at the other two corners as the campsite. In Neo’s eyes, the location and terrain were quite good, and the tents were set up properly. By the time he arrived, most of the work was done. Neo watched for a while and noted a young man with thick brown hair. This man not only seemed to have the potential to become a temporary leader but, if Neo wasn’t mistaken, had also organized the camp layout himself.
About 40–50 meters away was the bandits’ camp, which they had chosen in a depression that had once served as a temporary stable for the Thures migration group.
Together with the terrain and the ice enclosure, this depression had walls over 5 meters high on three sides. However, it was too spacious, lacked clearly defined corners for support, and the fourth side was a large opening. The old wooden fences had been removed when the migration group left for other uses. Given these factors, its ability to shield against the cold winds was actually quite poor.

The tents of the bandits could also be described as pitiful—one hadn’t been set up yet, and the other was built but crooked, with loose pegs and slack ropes, clearly unsuited to withstand hardship. Food was being cooked, but it already had a distinct burnt smell; the fire was too intense, and it wasn’t stirred often enough, causing the bottom to burn. Adding water wouldn’t make such food tasty.

Nio’s gaze finally fell on Vitz in the corner, and he slowly walked over. Earlier, he had already seen the stretcher dozens of meters away and the obvious scuff marks on the ground.

When Vitz saw Nio, he turned his head away. Although he hadn’t seen Nio’s face clearly during the battle at Krop, he later figured out who had shot him in both legs. Naturally, he couldn’t possibly be friendly toward Nio.

Nio hadn’t seen what Vitz looked like back then either, but he assumed he hadn’t been as emaciated as now. It wasn’t hard to imagine that the villagers of Krop didn’t even need to be deliberately cruel to him—just treating him like the other bandits was enough to make him suffer greatly. Treating a wounded man like a prisoner was in itself a form of torture.

Vitz ignored him, so Nio squatted down on his own to examine the wound on Vitz’s calf. Vitz refused to cooperate, so Nio simply punched him twice. Vitz became obedient but glared at him, breathing heavily.

Vitz’s wound hadn’t healed well. Priest Norlund’s daily divine magic was limited and couldn’t be used on him. The arrow in Vitz’s leg had been removed, and some medicinal ointment had been applied, waiting for natural healing. With the cold weather and inadequate care, plus Vitz’s lack of knowledge about self-care, the wound had frozen and developed a slight infection. In other seasons, it might have already begun to fester.

After wrapping Vitz’s wound again, Nio left without saying anything. After a while, he returned, carrying his finely crafted bedding roll and a satchel.

For the second time, Nio examined Vitz’s leg wound. To Vitz’s surprised eyes, he used the spell “Life Pearl” on each wound once.

Using the Life Pearl to heal such penetrating wounds was the most appropriate method. Its healing power penetrated the entire wound, yielding significant results with almost no wasted energy.

Nio first covered the wounds briefly, then sat down next to Vitz. Watching the militia members still busy in the distance, glancing over here from time to time, he said slowly, “I used to be a camp leader for young gladiators. There, aside from fighting, I only learned two things: first, know when to admit defeat; second, take care of yourself as much as possible.”

Vitz still kept his head turned away, silent. After all, as someone from a criminal background, he understood all too well that a grudge like the one Nio had against him was generally unavengable—and shouldn’t even be deliberately remembered, otherwise it would only bring pain. Without considering the external circumstances, the difference in strength, or differences in skill, just one thing remained: perseverance. If he had truly been the kind of person who sought revenge at every turn and insisted on getting back at those who oppressed him, if he had the determination and persistence to do so, how could he have ended up in such a situation? Having lived nearly 30 years, Vitz was well aware of his own character.

But though he understood, emotionally he still felt conflicted. He couldn’t make himself shrink like Tony, endure silently like Mah, or eagerly try to get close like Dick. For someone like him, before he could figure it out, discomfort was just discomfort—no need for much explanation.

Neo stood up, looked around, and left. Soon after, he returned, this time dragging a tree about the thickness of a small bowl. Drawing his cyan steel sword, he swung it like a ribbon, cutting the tree into three sections as easily as chopping a radish. After removing the branches, he split it vertically into six half-logs. Choosing a spot, he used his fist as a hammer and the half-logs as nails, pounding them into place to create a short wall parallel to the hard soil wall. Then he inserted branches densely into the snow on the windward side of the wall and compacted the soil and snow with his feet, completing a simple windbreak.

Neo calmly fetched Wittz’s stretcher, held one end like a spear, exhaled, and with force drove the other end into the frozen soil behind the windbreak. He then leaned the end he was holding at a 15-degree angle to the ground. Next, he spread his own bedding on the stretcher, unfastened the side clasp of the sleeping bag, and opened the leather strap—thus creating a soft bed with a cover.

Turning back to treat Wittz’s leg injury, Neo saw that the frostbite and minor infection had significantly subsided. He reapplied medicine and bandaged it. Then he reached under Wittz’s armpits from behind, dragged him behind the windbreak, threw him onto the soft bed, pulled the side curtain of the sleeping bag over him, and took out a small piece of cured meat the size of a rice bowl to put in Wittz’s arms.

After packing up Wittz’s bedding, Neo walked silently back to his own camp.

“Don’t think doing this will buy you off!” came Wittz’s shout from behind the windbreak.

“Then get your own wounds fixed first!” Neo replied before walking away gradually.

Perhaps because of Wittz’s unyielding attitude toward Neo, the bandits regarded him with more respect. He didn’t end up going hungry altogether—there was a half-cooked flatbread and a bowl of slightly thicker, milky hot soup. The bandit who brought the food dumped it on the ground beside Wittz. “Sir, eat! That’s all there is. If you’re upset, blame those kids from Mathuya—they stole at least three portions of our food.”

The bandit thought Wittz could speak for him, using him as a mouthpiece to complain. Unfortunately, Wittz wasn’t clever enough. Seeing his blank expression, the bandit was greatly disappointed and didn’t even bother to say more before turning and leaving.

Back in the camp, Neo chatted casually with Dick and the others while working on some small tasks. First, he used an axe and dagger to shape a leather frame, then covered it with the skins of snow rabbits and roe deer to remove grease. He used hot water from melting snow mixed with tree sap to clean and toughen the skins. Finally, he built a simple wooden frame to stretch the water-dried skins across.

These tasks are all preliminary steps in leather processing, requiring time and patience. For hairless skins, it takes at least 4 to 5 days of tanning to turn them into usable leather. Neo wasn’t in a hurry; working slowly, by the time he went to bed, he had just finished processing two snow rabbit skins and one roe deer skin.

“Neo is our leader!”

“Neo is our leader!”…

Dick and the other three completed the tasks Neo had assigned them before going to bed. At first, they felt a bit embarrassed, but after repeating it many times, they didn’t mind anymore. With Neo watching over them and considering his previous methods of discipline, the four decided it was better to complete the tasks.

Their voices carried on the night wind to the other two camps. The two groups, who were rubbing their injuries and still upset about what had happened that day, naturally had complaints—things like “sick! Perverted! Narcissistic! Idiot!” and so on.

As the night deepened and the wind grew stronger, its howling could be heard almost continuously as it swept through the edge of the forest. Looking from the forest gaps toward the plain, the plain resembled a turbulent sea, with rolling white waves formed by the piled-up snow.

In such weather, even White Sock, who usually liked to go out alone at night, was too lazy to leave. It lay on the hay bag meant for the donkey, not yet sleepy, occasionally turning its head to look at Neo beside it.

Neo lay in White Sock’s embrace, meditating. The Star Meditation technique didn’t require a specific posture—just any comfortable position that helped with relaxation.

Deep meditation was already a required practice for Neo. As a part-time shaman, this skill had become even more important.

The Shamanic Chapters of Sengorlas, like the transmission of other techniques, consisted of an outline and key points. One was to correct deviations, the other to emphasize essentials. As for exactly how to do it, there wasn’t much explanation—only vague statements, like those of a seer, allowing for various interpretations, full of the text’s own whimsy and a slightly infuriating ambiguity.

Neo had heard many stories about shamans since he was very young. Back then, he knew that shamans were divided into healing, combat, and energy types—a classification similar to that of druids. But after reading the Shamanic Chapters of Sengorlas, Neo learned that the shamanic paths in their golden age were far more complex and detailed, and that the stories passed down among the werewolf clans were not just legends.

Mountain spirits, water spirits, plants, animals—almost every shaman back then had their own primary totem. They could combine the power of these spirits with their own to gain strength far beyond ordinary limits, and there were even those who combined multiple totems. For example, a shaman who mastered the bear totem and the earth element totem to create the Earth Bear was already a legendary figure—rumored to be able to trigger an earthquake with just one punch.

Now, Neo stood before the monument of the earth element. The only elemental power that had been unlocked was one symbol representing tolerance, yet he still didn’t have any techniques to use this power.

Nio was also aware that he could only use the power of earth elements at a superficial level, still far from truly mastering it. His key task was to spend time and effort in front of the monument, feeling the power of earth elements and enhancing his own affinity for them. Additionally, practicing shamanic intuition was also crucial. Once both aspects reached a certain level, he would be able to summon the spirit of earth elements, establish a contract with it, and then techniques would naturally emerge.

But it made no sense that he could use such power yet couldn’t cast a single spell—how annoying! Nio thought that he should have access to at least half of the spells like a mage’s Stone Skin spell, right?

After much consideration, Nio remembered the process by which he had acquired healing power. He reached out, trying to grasp some of the abundant earth element energy surrounding the monument. However, the golden light was like water—it didn’t penetrate his hand but flowed away instead.

“It seems that even the most basic use requires a ritual of power transfer!” Nio recalled how the Perfect Woman had given him healing power. Continuing to ponder, he finally focused on the flickering runes. “Could it be this?”

Nio thought of a phrase from the Sengorlas Shamanic Chapter: “Mind and Seal in Harmony.”

“Mind—I am now an entity of thought and spirit. This seal before me must be considered a seal.”

Calming himself down, Nio directed his hand toward the symbol on the monument. He understood that his hand was essentially a manifestation of abstract consciousness, representing connection.

The moment his hand touched the symbol, a tremendous force flowed from the monument through his arm and throughout his body, forming a golden seal on his forehead that matched the symbol on the monument exactly. Immediately afterward, Nio felt his body melting within this powerful force, only to reassemble around this seal. Then, everything returned to silence.

Returning to the physical world, Nio checked his body and found that, in addition to healing power, a weak earth element energy was now bound within his nervous system. Unlike healing power, which was tied to his bloodline, the earth element resided in the abdominal cavity about 5 centimeters below his navel, like a floating mass of dust with no fixed shape.

Waking up from deep meditation, Nio gently twisted his right hand, and a faint earth-yellow glow appeared between his fingers, continuing to coalesce under his mental control.

A sense of joy filled him. “It worked! The next step is to apply it practically.”

Just as Nio was about to return to deep meditation to better understand the power of earth elements and find a direction for creating spells, he heard a commotion coming from the bandit camp.

It turned out that a gust of wind had blown through, not only toppling one of the tents but also scattering the kindling for their campfires everywhere, creating utter chaos.

The bandits had no choice but to get out of bed and set up the tent again. They found that the tent had already been damaged by the kindling, allowing wind to blow through constantly, forcing them to use objects to seal it. People in another tent were also awakened by the chaos. Worried about similar problems, they reinforced their tent in the cold, suffering minor setbacks as well.

It was instead Wittz, who was ignored and ended up sleeping under a makeshift wind barrier. Though the barrier was as good as a sieve, with a thin layer of snow penetrating and covering his sleeping bag, making him look buried in snow, the bag was actually breathable and warm, and had a hood. Other than breathing, Wittz could hardly feel the cold wind outside—this was the most comfortable night he’d had.

The next day, the group atNio got up early to feed the horses and pack up. Their destination for the day was Croop.

This time, breakfast wasn’t divided into small portions but given out per person by Dick, who took them to the two camps.

“What’s going on? Why so little?” asked one of the Mathuyan militiamen to Dick.

FollowingNio’s instructions, Dick shifted the blame onto him. “The captain said Frey doesn’t have permanent workers who can get full pay without working.”

“What nonsense! How are we not working? Isn’t setting up camp work too?”

“Damn it, we’re not in production here! What if the enemy attacks when we run out of strength?”

“Who said we’re not working? He didn’t say a word—how are we supposed to know what to do?” …

Dick then repeatedNio’s second instruction: “Complaining to me is useless. I’m just a messenger. The captain says those who disagree are welcome to challenge him—whichever one wins decides!”

“Damn! So what if you can fight! I’m quitting!”

“Let’s go! Go to the main group—don’t tolerate this humiliation!”

The crowd grew agitated, but in the end, it was the young man with thick brown hair whomNio had noticed earlier who stepped forward to calm things down. “Let’s fill our stomachs first. If we don’t have to work, why not go hunting? We’re not going to starve, are we?”

This young man had some authority, and many agreed with him. Everyone was strong and in good health—letNio see if he thought he could control them just by controlling the food and make them admit fault! Dream on!

But there were also those who disagreed. Two militiamen voiced objections, one of them the burly man who had once foughtNio. He shook his head and said, “You can’t win.”

Sprinkling cold water on such a moment naturally drew scorn from everyone, even the diehards stepped forward to condemn him, mocking him for being scared after fightingNio once.

Then the second dissenter appeared. He had light linen-colored hair likeNio’s, but instead ofNio’s sharp style, it was curly with lots of fine strands. His skin was as fair and delicate as a girl’s, with a sharp chin and a thin build, though his facial features weren’t very distinct. What was most unusual was his pair of extremely long eyes, which always seemed half-closed.

“Sigh, it’s getting boring. I’m done playing—I surrender!” the young man said lazily.

His surrender hit the militiamen hard, as he was usually the most troublemaker and full of tricks.

“Really, Botlem, why are you backing out now?” one of the militiamen asked reproachfully.

“It’s colder now; I’m not in the mood to make a fuss,” Botlem shrugged and curled his lips, then said to Dick, “I’ll go with you. I follow the captain’s orders.” He had actually already made his point—it was colder, and with such thick snow, hunting would be no easy task! In fact, Heihan’s claim that they couldn’t win also referred to this. Unfortunately, none of the militia members thought of this; they saw hunting as too simple. Besides, when anger took over, little rationality remained in their thinking.

So when Dick headed to the bandits’ camp, there was Botlem, who walked as if strolling, and the sullen-looking dark-skinned man, Barret.

Although the bandits used to be city guards, in terms of military skills and wilderness survival abilities, they were inferior to the Mathuya militia. Each of them had limited capabilities but many ideas. Usually, they submitted to Zakley’s tyranny, but now that the restraints and discipline were gone, no one obeyed anyone else, and chaos ensued.

“Um… I’m willing to take command,” said one who saw things clearly. It was Edward, the sentinel who had been knocked out and tied up byNio during the bandit incident while on night duty in the village bell tower.

“Me too!” Vitze shouted from the corner. He didn’t have many complicated thoughts; he could figure out most issues in just one night.

In this way,Nio had 7 soldiers and 1 injured person under his command.

Nio didn’t say much, only ordering Edward and Tony to help Hagen prepare breakfast, while Barret, Botlem, and Dick packed their belongings. He himself went to the militia camp before breakfast and took away one tent.

“We have 10 people,” said a militia member, full of resentment.

“Six over there,”Nio pointed at the bandits’ camp.

None of the militia members wanted to share a tent with the bandits, so they fought another battle against them. This time,Nio didn’t intervene.

Without surprise, the larger, stronger, and more united militia won decisively. Besides taking one tent, they also seized nearly half of the breakfast food, claiming it was the price for the bandits’ resistance. After the militia left, the 6 bandits blamed each other endlessly and stopped cooking altogether.

OnNio’s side, everything proceeded smoothly under his orders. After breakfast and a short rest, they saddled their horses and set off.

Before leaving,Nio took Dick and Barret to return weapons to both the bandits and the militia. He left behind a message: “We’re going to Croop. If anything happens to you while I’m away, you’re responsible for it.”

In fact, the bandits no longer had the courage to confront the militia, and the militia lacked the motivation to bully them further—they couldn’t extract any more profit from them.

Nio’s group headed straight northwest and arrived at Leaffall Valley at noon. After resting for an hour and eating some dried food, they went to the battlefield where they had fought against the Dark Claws earlier.

The heads of the Dark Claws had been cut off and divided up—these were merit points, strong evidence of their resistance against the dark forces, needed by both Thures and Mathuya. Their bodies were left in the wilderness, ignored by all.

“Find the Corrupted and dig the bodies out from under the snow. Collect all their clothes, whether intact or not.”

Although Dick and the others didn’t understand Neo’s intentions, they carried out his orders. Neo chose one of the headless corpses of the corrupted and, seeing that no one was paying attention, used “Life Siphon.” Though life force had largely dissipated with death, the Dark Hand’s members were enhanced by magical potions, giving them far greater vitality than ordinary people. Neo wanted to see if the ice had trapped some energy within these corpses—after all, all those who had been targeted by his “Life Siphon” in the past had ended up as ashes. These frozen corpses, being full-bodied, might still yield some energy. It turned out that good habits of thrift and avoiding waste did pay off; although the life energy was minimal, other forms of energy were still abundant. Interestingly, this time, the process of using “Life Siphon” differed from what Neo had expected. He had thought he would need to reverse the process to remove the mixed energies, even resorting to life-related spells to purify the unusable waste energy. Instead, these energies were completely absorbed through a new internal circulation process. Then, Neo felt that the amount of his other source of power for casting life-related spells—mysterious energy—had increased. After finishing his tasks, Neo estimated that the total life energy obtained this time was enough to cast “Wave of Life” twice, “Touch of Life” six times, or “Pearl of Life” 18 times. Considering it was almost turning waste into treasure, this was quite a significant gain. After collecting a bag of the corrupted’s ashes and simply cleaning up the scene, Neo caught up with Dick and the others, who continued on toward Croop. Upon arriving in Croop, Neo’s first order to the seven people was to restart the blacksmith shop in the village, which had been expanded. The blacksmith shop had a large anvil that couldn’t be taken away due to its size, and the bellows only needed a new blower leather and minor repairs to the pull rods to function. Neo knew where the coke and firewood were stored, and there was enough for use. As for iron materials, through forceful destruction, some could still be obtained from the village. This time, Neo didn’t spare even the village bell, throwing it into the smelting furnace to melt it. After restarting the blacksmith shop, Neo’s next order was to restore the basic functionality of the large house where Zakli had once hidden. This house was relatively independent, had a clear view around it, and its structure was sturdy, built mostly of stone from the foundation to the lower walls, so it had suffered the least damage when the migration group left. Dick and the others were tasked with continuing to demolish other houses in the village, sealing windows with wooden planks, installing doors, watering and freezing the large house through the attic skylight to prevent fire and climbing, and strengthening the stables connected to it—thus essentially completing a temporary camp. Neo now had a thorough understanding of Croop. After the camp was built, he led and guided Dick and the seven others to set up about 30 traps around the village edges and key areas. By the time this work was completed, the sun was already setting.

But the work for today isn’t entirely done yet. Hagen and Tony are preparing dinner, Mah is going to reinforce the stables and take care of the horses, while Witz, Barret, andNio head to the blacksmith’s shop to forge blanks. The rest are responsible for disassembling and rinsing the clothes of the Dark Claws members collected at noon.

Witz can’t move around easily, but he can sit there and operate the bellows. Нио acts as the master, using a small hammer to guide the force, while Barret does the heavy lifting with a large hammer.

This trip to Cropp for smelting and forging is mainly divided into two parts. The first is tool-making. The Gale Team is practically penniless, with extremely poor tools and equipment. Although Нио’s skills in carpentry, leatherworking, and tailoring are only basic, he can still make functional tools, though not very aesthetically pleasing.

The second part is equipment-making. Armor is out of the question, but armors, kneepads, and plate armor can still be produced. The members’ tattered leather armor—well, strictly speaking, thick furs—are in a pitiful state. In Нио’s opinion, it’s better not to wear them at all, as it would reduce the load.

Although the Gale Team hasn’t set strict requirements, Нио is highly motivated. With limited time, results are needed—there’s no time for pointless training. In his plan, the team’s top priorities are two: 1) All members must obey his orders without hesitation; 2) Improve the team’s overall strength by upgrading their equipment. As for getting used to each other, that can happen during the work.

It wasn’t until 11 p.m. that Нио’s tasks were temporarily completed. Not all items can be forged immediately, especially armor and weapons, which require time to temper the steel, as do some special components. The furnace’s fire won’t go out tonight, and many tools will need to be finished tomorrow.

After a full day of hard work, everyone is exhausted. But Нио planned everything thoroughly. In the afternoon, he ordered people to dig pits in the corners of the large house using the terrain. Wood planks, stones, broken water tank pieces—these materials were used to build makeshift basins. When hot water was poured in, they became temporary bathtubs, allowing everyone to take a comfortable hot shower, which not only improved personal hygiene but also helped relieve fatigue. The water could also be used to prevent fires.

“Our leader is Нио!”…

Completing this task before going to bed brought smiles to several people’s faces. It was a sign of recognition—in their eyes, though young, this werewolf was far from inexperienced and was fully capable of being the leader.

Yet this wasn’t a peaceful night for everyone. Just after midnight, uninvited guests arrived…